


This Could Be Nice

by tyrellis



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU - Coffee Shop, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 22:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1619825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyrellis/pseuds/tyrellis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean’s been complaining about not having a boyfriend for three months; his coworkers end up trying to find a solution to his problem. Marco’s struggling to get over his subpar ex-boyfriend, when Reiner and Bertholdt spirit him away to a certain coffee shop. The ensuing collision goes about as well as you could expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Could Be Nice

**Author's Note:**

> my first snk fic, woohoo. it’s a cute post, a cute idea, and once i thought about eren and sasha and connie conniving to ruin jean’s life/fix his problems, i couldn’t stop myself, because i’m the worst person ever. mentions of french!jean because that’s my life. still not sure why a coffee would cost more than a fiver, but let’s just extend belief for the purposes of marco appearing subtle. i have a thing for jean/ymir brotp based on them hating everything and i won’t let it go. reiner is a mama bear who judges your outfits and your bs reasons for not getting out of bed. don’t judge. just sit back, enjoy, and maybe drop a line if you thought it was half-decent. inspired by [this](http://tyrellis.tumblr.com/post/85618631026/brolininthetardis-this-is-a-coffeeshop-au) and my own dumb tags.

"It's been three weeks." Ymir only shrugs as she sits back, ignoring Christa's frown as she pulls the small girl close to her. "If I have to go through another day of that idiot complaining about how he's not getting any dick, I _swear to god_ , I will hang him by his balls out the window."

Christa scrunches her nose. "I think that's a little extreme, Ymir," she tries to placate her, but Ymir just waves her off with a _harrumph_.

Eren's sitting on a beanie bag - as a guest, apparently the only seat he deserves is on the floor - contemplating their options. He actually has to _live_ with Jean, and the only reason he hasn't strangled the other boy yet is because Armin steps in when it gets too heated. Armin's the only one either of them will listen to, really, or Mikasa - they learned from the first time they ignored her. Suffice to say, Eren couldn't walk properly for two days and Jean winced every time he saw her for a while after.

He, Ymir and Jean all work at a little coffee place down the road from Ymir's flat, called _Sawney and Bean_. Eren's pretty sure there's a pun involved about coffee beans, but frankly the boss, a plant enthusiast called Hanji, freaks him out a little too much for him to clarify. A couple called Connie and Sasha work there too, and are currently squabbling in the kitchen about who deserves to have the last packet of crisps, considering Sasha's eaten probably 68% of them already. Those two are good friends with Jean, although that friendship appears to be built on them heckling him and him tolerating it. Ymir doesn't seem to like anyone but Christa, but he's pretty sure on slow days Jean and her just stand behind the counter muttering about how much they hate everyone.

Jean is Eren's arch-nemesis. And even _he's_ here, trying to find a solution to Jean's problem.

He never thought he'd see the day, really.

Ymir lets out another sigh. "Eren, can't you and Armin just take him to all the gay clubs until some poor dude takes pity on him? That would at least help a _little_ , right?" She sounds desperate. They all are. It's been _three weeks_.

"We've been doing that _every Friday_ ," Eren moans. "But the idiot just..." He shakes his head. "He actually brought home a couple guys, but one started crying halfway through and the other started calling the wrong name."

Ymir snickers, and even Christa looks vaguely amused, schooling her features to look sympathetic. She's a better person than the rest of them, clearly. Sasha and Connie have apparently left behind their argument and are laughing raucously.

"What a _loser_!" Sasha hoots, skipping out of the kitchen with the crisps and a bottle of ketchup. Eren doesn't want to ask, he doesn't want to know, and he _really_ doesn't want to see, but Sasha starts squirting the sauce into the packet right in front of him anyway.

"I'm never going to let him live that down," Connie says, grinning and throwing himself onto the other beanie bag, cradling his lone crisp in one hand.

Cackling, Ymir asks, "Is that why he's always worse on the weekends?"

"I didn't even know it was possible for him to get worse."

Ymir snorts, but Christa says, "This isn't really going to help him, you know."

"Do we _have_ to help him? He's such an asshole, I think this is just the universe trying to tell him something," Eren says, frustrated and bored more than anything else.

"I don't know," Sasha says. "He's getting annoying at work, how do you _live_ with it?"

Eren thinks about the escalation of hours spent having sex with Armin, and nods to himself pretty proudly. " _I_ have a boyfriend."

"Fair," Ymir says.

"We could get a friend of ours to date him for a while?" Sasha tries, with probably the most helpful suggestion of the day.

"All our friends are already together," Ymir deadpans.

"No way," Connie replies. "There's... Well... You and Christa, Eren and Armin, me and Sash... Then there's...Mikasa? No, she's dating that blond chick. Hitch?"

"With Marlow."

" _Really_?"

Nodding. Shocked, Connie continues, "Okay, how about- No, Franz is with Hannah. Fuck, uh, why are all are friends dating each other? Well, they don't have to be _our_ age... What about Levi?"

"Levi?" Ymir repeats. " _Really_?"

"He's hot," Connie says with a shrug. Noticing Sasha's look, he adds, "Objectively speaking, of course."

Eren agrees internally. "Pretty sure he's dating Hanji, actually."

"Right. Well... So none of us have any hot friends to spare? Christ."

"We could round up hot dudes at work and then just lock 'em all in until one agrees to date Jean."

" _Ymir_."

Eren digs himself further into his beanie bag. It is _really_ comfy. Work, work, work... Jean. Jean, whose last boyfriend was in first year, but then realised it was a phase and left for a bigger city or some shit. Jean, who has the worst luck with dating. Jean, who's been harassing them all about his lack of love life for _too long_. Eren should really be constructing some kind of revenge in return for how annoying he's been lately. Maybe he could draw dicks all over the shop and blame it on Jean the next day. Maybe he could write 'gay' on Jean's forehead, and maybe a moustache, too, to drive away any potential suitors.

At this point, the question is: does Eren actually want to help Jean and make him shut up? Or does he want to screw him over, but end up with more complaining?

Could he just...do both?

Maybe he could do some comparision dick drawings on the whiteboard outside the shop to lure in potential customers? Or maybe two male signs entwined and a winky face beneath? He could easily just write 'dick wanted for undercut barista' and be done with it.  
Eren straightens up. He's brilliant.

"I have an idea," he announces, capturing the attention of those who had been arguing about what _kind_ of hot dude Jean wanted while he'd been busy actually trying to help. "A _brilliant_ idea."

"Oh god," Ymir groans.

-

"Oh god," Jean groans, as his alarm goes off and instead of silencing it, he just rolls out of bed onto the floor. "Oh, _god_." He flops his arm over the table, eventually grasping his phone and tapping at the home screen enough for it to shut up, and just lays there for a minute.

What a wonderful start to work-filled, not-boyfriend-filled, day.

With more groaning, Jean manages to get on two feet, and clambers over his duvet, through his door, and to the kitchen. Eren's tinkering with the coffee machine, and Armin's reading the newspaper with an omelette in front of him.

"Coffee," he demands, but Eren just glares at him and turns back to the machine.

"Jesus, Jean, give me two minutes."

He grunts, but rummages through the cupboards instead, before deciding that cereal was really just as good as anything Armin could have cooked. By the time he's made up a bowl, Eren's pouring coffee, and he gets out a mug and pours one for himself. He dumps a ton of sugar into it and is done with it; breakfast fit for a king.

Or a dude who hasn't had a boyfriend in like, three years. Life gets tough, man.

When Eren sits at the table with him and Armin, he instantly kisses the other boy on the cheek and smiles all soft in a way Jean had never expected before. They're _so_ lovey-dovey, Jean wants to shove them out the window so he doesn't have to watch.

"Can you guys _not_ at the table, please," he requests tiredly. "I'm trying to eat, here."

Eren pulls away from Armin just to smirk smugly. "Just 'cause you're jealous that we can have sex whenever we want."

Jean doesn't deny that. He's _very_ jealous. Sex-on-demand would be awesome. "Whatever," he sighs. "But it'd be nice to not be reminded of how lonely and pathetic I am so in early in the morning."

"It's my _job_ to remind you how lonely and pathetic you are," Eren replies, too sassy for the morning. "The earlier I start, the more satisfaction I get."

"Diminishing returns?" Jean tries.

"Maximising profit."

He just sighs, miserably eating his cereal and drinking up his coffee. It takes him roughly another twenty minutes to get ready, tousling the blonder part of his hair and raking a hand over his darker undercut, dressing in his usual dark jeans and dumb band shirt - it didn't matter, he'd be wearing an apron anyway. After brushing his teeth and staring morosely into the bathroom mirror for a while, he eventually scoots into some Converse, grabs his keys, phone, and wallet, and follows Eren to his car.

Armin waves, going off to his job in the book store, and they're at the shop in five minutes. Jean doesn't even know why they drive. Priority parking, probably. Or extra sleep, more likely.

Or sex. Considering how frequently Eren and Armin had been going at it lately. It was bordering on obnoxious, really, already deep into rude.  
Hanji's in, but only to give them their instructions for the day and then she's off to tend to her garden. Ymir breezes in not five minutes later, the same bored expression on her face as always. They run through the instructions for her - washing down certain areas, what special it is for the day, the whiteboard outside needs something new on it (it's got a Valentine's Day message on it, and it's _April_ ) - and she offers for the latter. Eren and Jean rock-paper-scissor it out for who's gonna clean and who's on the counter, and with an incredible rock beats scissors win, Jean saunters off to the counter, checking through the last few receipts and logging onto the till.

At first, Jean thinks it must be the weather. Weather makes people do weird things, right? But after an hour, Eren's smirking and Jean's sure he has something to do with this. After three, he wants to rip off his apron and leave, because people are getting _fucking_ annoying. Some are normal. Some just stare, like he's a loser (he is). Others titter when he takes their order and he just frowns in confusion, and others, particularly an old couple who immediately left the shop with their orders, just glared at him.

There's nothing in his teeth - he's checked, several times - and his hair is fine. Maybe it's his face? Which is the same? As always? Maybe people just suck. He says this to Ymir when it gets busier and she comes out from the back to join him and Eren, but instead of agreeing she just laughs, and his previous suspicion of it being Eren's fault grows to include her.

After the sixth person outright laughs at him, the eleventh refuses to touch his hands when he gives them their change, and the fourth time Eren and Ymir confer quietly together at the end of the counter, Jean's ready to give up. This is why he really needs a boyfriend. At least then he can just ignore whatever else is going on and daydream about whoever it was. But no, he has to put up with this.

One day he will not be alone, he decides, as he grouchily ignores the intrusive stare of his next customer - but today, just like all days before it, is probably not that day.

-

"I'm not in the mood today," Marco sighs, as Reiner belligerently nudges him and begins to yank his duvet off. Bertholdt, complacent in the crime, is sweating nervously at his side. It isn't an unusual sight, but it would be nice to see him hold back his boyfriend for once. Maybe his height can make up for Reiner's strength, and he's actually be _able_ to.

"You've said that every day for the past five months Marco. _Five. Months_. It's time to get over him. He was a dick, it turned out he didn't really like dick, he doesn't actually deserve to _have_ a dick." Reiner, ever the poet. He's tossed Marco's duvet to the floor and is now shoving clothes at him - his favourite blue cardigan and some khakis, because Reiner knows what looks good on everyone. He's rather surprising in that regard.

As Marco slithers from his bed, Bertl sidles over to prop him up and let Reiner change him. Which is really stupid and patronising and probably inappropriate, but to be fair, Marco hasn't left his bed in three days. He took a shower last night and fell back into bed, sighing about jobs and friends and ex-boyfriends.

Reiner and Bertl - and occasionally Annie, but she's been hanging with some Asian chick lately - have taken to storming his home every few days, rearranging his life, then leaving him to his sorrows for a little while. The little while is becoming shorter, though, and Reiner is looking a lot less sympathetic than, er...five months ago.

Marco's not good with break-ups. Well, according to the last break-up. Which was also his first break-up. And his first boyfriend. So. It's a bit of a touchy subject.

Reiner's smothered him in deodorant and he's dressed, and Bertl's disappeared to get food, and Marco finds himself being manhandled towards his front door.

"Are you serious?" he asks, squinting as the door opens and lets in a rare ray of sun.

"Look, Marco," Reiner states. "Look at that. It's fucking sunny. You know how often that happens? _Never_ , Marco, it's _never_ sunny here. I don't even fucking care that you're sad and shit - just enjoy the fucking sun, we're gonna go get a coffee somewhere, and maybe you'll see a cute dude. Optimism, yeah?"

Yeah. Marco used to be so good at it, as well.

Bertl reappears with some hastily buttered toast, but Marco accepts it with gratitude and they set off down the street and to the main road, where there are a couple of cute shops and cafes lining each side.

"I'm sorry," he mutters after a second. "I know I'm...not doing a very good job of letting go of him, but...he was my first, and-"

"It's alright," Bertl says, his voice soft and kind. "We're not angry at you, we just want you to be happy." The rarity of his contributions to a conversation makes the sentiment even more touching, and, embarrassingly, Marco finds himself smiling with watery eyes. Reiner and Bertl, bless their hearts, don't let on.

"It's a new, glorious day," Reiner agrees. He throws a hand to the sky. "It's damn beautiful weather, you're out of the house, let's make the most of it. Yeah?"

"Yeah, sure," Marco finds himself agreeing, quite pleasantly, as they stroll further down the road. Reiner starts nattering on, with Bertl agreeing in quiets hmms and yeah's. They pass a pink sweet shop and a high-end boutique and an expensive Italian restaurant, and after awhile Marco stops caring and just watches the cars pass by, the girls in their short skirts and bare legs and boys wearing socks and sandles and making Marco cringe a little.

He retreats back into his mind - he didn't know why he was taking so long to get over Daz, when, frankly, Daz hadn't been anything special. Pretty funny, though serious at heart, and a bit of a wimp. He'd stuck with Marco, and made him feel wanted, for a time, but he hadn't felt much else. _Nothing special_ , he thinks with a sigh, wondering if maybe what he really misses is the feeling of someone who cares first and foremost for him. It makes him feel a little selfish, which pretty effectively ruins the good mood he's built up since he left his flat.

"Hey, Marco," Reiner calls, and he starts, turning to see the other two standing by a little coffee shop that he'd completely missed in his musing. They're grinning down at the little whiteboard propped outside. "This is for you, mate."

He backtracks a little so he can read it: there's a stick figure with a clump of yellow at the top of his head the little brown marks above each ear. Next to it, it pronounces:

_'Today, your barista is: 1. Hella fucking gay._  
 _2\. Desperately single._  
 _For your drink today I recommend: you give me your number.'_

Reiner's got a shiteating grin on, and Bertl's nervous sweating has increased tenfold, but even he's smiling a little and it's almost enough to make Marco go along with it anyway. They just want him to be happy, he knows.

"Do it," Reiner says, but Marco shakes his head.

"No, I'm not doing it," he says promptly. "I have no obligations towards some lonely guy working in a coffee store just because I also don't have a boyfriend, so-"

"So we'll just get a coffee, which _is_ what we set out to do anyway," Reiner interrupts, smiling broadly as he grabs Bertl's hand and leads him in. Bertl throws out one last hopeful smile at Marco as he's dragged along, and Marco cracks. He hasn't even had coffee today. He'll just go in, order a drink, maybe check out the guy and that'll be it. It doesn't need to be a big deal. At all.

The second Marco walks in and scopes the barista - dealing with a bunch of snorting teenagers, poor guy - he realises that it is a big deal. A big, _big_ , deal.

He stands with the other two in line, one certain blond grinning smugly as Marco tries to stop staring.

"I knew it, I _knew_ it. You better give him your number or I'll never forgive you."

"No, I-" He stops himself as the kids leave and they shuffle forwards, and Marco's in earshot of the barista's voice. _He has a French accent_. Marco's resolve all but crumbles. "Well," he murmurs, his brown eyes taking in every detail of the other boy. He looks about Marco's age, a face of sharp angles and a scowl, currently directed at his coworker, a tall, dark-skinned girl with as many freckles as Marco. The boy looks about as tall as him, too, and nearly as broad, and when his eyes flick up to the customer he's serving Marco can't help but note the bright amber eyes he has. He's...pretty lovely, actually. A lot better-looking than Daz, and seems of tougher stuff, too. As he barks the customer's order at the girl, Marco takes in the tone, a little lower than he expected, a tad gruff, but softened by the French accent that hangs on every word, mispronouncing his th's and lengthening his r's.

Reiner's started giggling to himself life a school girl, and he's swinging his and Bertl's joined hands enthusiastically.

"You like?" he asks, and Marco's blush proves it all. He reaches into his pocket and extracts a crumpled bit of paper - he straightens it out, reaches into Bertl's pocket for a pen, and passes both to Marco.

"Really?" Marco says, but his fight is half-hearted and after two matching stares of disdain, he writes down his name, address, and number. And if the guy turns out to be a creep, well, he has Reiner with him. That should be enough.

Reiner and Bertl push him forward to order solo when the customer finally leaves with their coffee, and in such close quarters, Marco finds himself struggling to stop spluttering. During his observation of the barista, he totally forgot to check the menu.

"You want a recommendation?" the guy says, smirking at him a little as Marco hm's and er's. "Try the iced raspberry latte. It keeps you cool in the sun, and the raspberry cancels out the bitterness of coffee."

Marco finds himself grinning back and biting his lip to stop how obviously happy he is with this interaction. "Sure," he says, trying not to sound too eager. "That sounds great."

The guy - Jean, his little nametag says - calls the order then turns back, still smiling lazily. He reads out the cost and Marco digs into his pocket for some change - he pulls out two fivers, and, slipping his number discreetly between them, passes them to the guy. Jean.

Jean manages to open the till before he realises the extra bit of paper, and Marco himself is surprised by how high his eyebrows jump, and immediately starts sputtering apologies like an idiot.

"Sorry- I thought- uh, I just wanted... But, if you don't-"

Jean's grinning, brighter than before, and says, "Calm down, Marco" - his grin is even slyer when he says his name - "I'm flattered. You're pretty cute. I'd like to see you again."

Marco's too lost in the amber eyes - soppily romantic, he knows - to notice the other two employees are cackling in the background.

"Great!" he exclaims, then widens his eyes and tries to sound cooler: "I mean, uh, cool. Really cool. It's just, I saw the sign outside, and I-"

Jean's eyes narrow suspiciously. "What sign?"

Marco frowns. "The, uh, the whiteboard? Outside? It said something about the barista serving today being gay and lonely and to give you a number...?"

His voice gets progressively smaller as Jean's eyes continue to narrow and he slowly wheels round to glare at the now-laughing uproariously coworkers.

" _What. The. Fuck_ ," he growls, then scoots past the counter and dashes for the exit. Marco watches in bewilderment as the female employee whips her phone out and the turquoise-eyed boy folds over in the apparent hilarity.

It doesn't take long to get a reaction.

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me?" Jean screeches from outside, and reappears quickly with the chalkboard in hand. "Whose dumbass idea was this? Is this because I've been complaining about not having a boyfriend? Fuck you all, you've all been practically married since _sixth year_!"

Marco raises an eyebrow, trying not to laugh with everyone else, as Jean gets behind the counter again and starts attempting to whack his coworkers with the board.

"Dammit, Ymir, I thought you had my back! And _Jaeger_ " - he starts meleeing the other guy with the board - "I bet this was your stupid fucking idea, no wonder all the customers have been acting like I'm a right weirdo!"

The girl, Ymir, is still chuckling violently, but has the sense to say, "You really want to cause a scene in front of the _one_ guy who gave you his number?"

The board clatters to the floor; Jean turns, and looks shocked that Marco's still actually there.

"I hope you've made his damn coffee," Jean mutters, and heads back to the till. Marco merely raises his eyebrows as Jean rubs the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. "Uh, sorry. Didn't, you know, expect that."

Marco tries to look put off as he gets his change back. "You know, about my number, if you could just..."

ean blanches and manages a spluttered, "O-oh," before Marco takes pity and snorts.

"I'm kidding, keep it. I mean, I guess you are pretty good-looking, even if you're an idiot."

Jean sputters some more, then just scowls and says, "Yeah, whatever, I'll probably call you. At some point."

"He'll probably ring you in, like, five hours, he's been complaining about not getting any dick for _ages_ -"

"Jaeger, I _swear to god_ , if you don't shut the hell up-"

Ymir barges past them both and says, "Your coffee, Marco," with a beautific smile that leaves Marco worrying about the power she holds.

Once Reiner and Bertl get their coffees, they sit in the corner sipping for a while, occasionally glancing at the barista (yeah, okay, maybe that's just Marco) and chatting about the weeks ahead. Marco hasn't felt this good in _ages_ \- he doesn't even remember feeling this wonderful with Daz.

Maybe's it's the something special he'd always wanted. He hopes so, because Jean is cute and he called Marco cute and they could, like, be cute together. That would be nice.

As Marco gets ready to leave, he flashes another smile at Jean, unoccupied for the time being, and calls, "I'll talk to you later, yeah, Jean?"

Jean's smiling brightly, as bright as his eyes, and he replies, "Of course. Bye, Marco."

Marco ignores Reiner's nudging and Bertl's little smile as he says coyly, "See you, Jean."

Yeah, it would be really nice.

**Author's Note:**

> find me at mlp-michaeljones or tyrellis on tumblr :)


End file.
